He's WHAT?
by Joker'sOnlyFear
Summary: Norman Roberts and his henchmen will never be the same after they make a business deal with the Joker - especially when they discover Jonathan's secret. Joker/Crane slash, strong language, some objectionable concepts.


_Author's Note: This is sort of a collaboration fic between myself and my buddy ShadowsCorpse525 (there turned out to be a tiny bit of fluff in this, sorry You). She came up with the idea of Joker in a business deal and what happens to one of Roberts's henchmen, I came up with Jonathan's secret (which yes I know is not scientifically possible) and the things associated with that - and I wrote it. I also came up with the idea of the possibility of Joker as a professional photographer in his past, inspired by events in the comic "The Killing Joke", which I won't spoil here. This takes place at night, as you may be able to figure out later into this heeheehee._

* * *

Their intimacy that night had been. . ._different_ from all the others. . .he had almost behaved as he thought an amorous lover might, _almost_; it was sort of funny, now that he considered it, that it would happen to _them_ - he, Public Enemy Number One, and his consort. . .it had been entirely unexpected of course, not even after his bitch's over-the-phone complaints of nausea and sickness in the mornings not long after that pleasant evening - and when, at their next face-to-face encounter not three full weeks later, a tearful Jonathan had looked up into his deep brown eyes and told him that he was fucking _pregnant_, of all things. . .well, the Clown Prince of Crime would of course never admit it, but he had been just as shocked as Crane must have been. . .though he figured Jonathan must have _known_ somehow that this was going to happen. . .feminine instincts, maybe. . .Crane had told him about how even before he had begun to feel ill he had stolen one of those do-it-yourself pregnancy tests when he had gone to the store to buy groceries. . .just in case. . .Jonathan had been afraid to go to the doctor because how could he ever explain something like this?. . .

". . .so I was thinking, maybe we could. . ._split_ Gotham - _you_ know, fifty-fifty?"

It was not so much the ridiculous suggestion as the nervous little giggle following it that snapped the Joker out of his musings; the timid little man sitting across the table from him - Norman Roberts, a jack-of-all-trades type newly introduced to Lady Gotham's corrupted city streets - cringed back into his chair at the intensity of the clown's gaze - the psycho's visage looked like a fucking _skull_, with the white paste and the depthless black eye sockets and the bloody _scars_, forever twisted into a horrible _leer_. . .Oh, Norman was going to get it now. . .

But then Joker started laughing, and despite the terrifying shrieks of hysteria emanating from the nut and echoing off the walls of the small kitchen in the Narrows apartment, Roberts began to relax, just a little - the clown was laughing, maybe that was a good sign?. . .

After a while Joker composed himself and said, "Very _funny_. . .what was your name again?"

"Norman Roberts." Norman giggled uneasily.

"Very funny, _Norman_. Simply, ah, _hilarious-suh_. Next time I need a good laugh, I'll just have one of my new henchmen" - Joker gestured to the trio of thugs standing behind Roberts - "call you up."

Norman couldn't believe it. "You're, you're _stealing_ my bodyguards?!"

Joker giggled. "Me? _Stealing?_ Never. I'm simply. . .making use of the resources at hand. See, you may not know this, being new here an' all, but this - this is _my_ city. _I'm_ in charge here, no matter what the _Bat_" - he snorted in disgust - "or those little punks in blue down at the station think. So if you don't wanna die - in the near future, anyway - you work for _me_ now, because _I. Said. So._" The clown crossed his arms over his chest, an almost smug expression on his face. "Ya got that, Norman?"

Certainly not harboring a death wish, Roberts nodded hastily, his bald head bobbing on his stringy neck.

Joker was about to give his new "employee" a mocking congratulations when he was distracted by the sight of one of the henchmen - Lily, Joker decided to call him, for his bold lily pad-green eyes - picking up a small framed photograph from its place on the counter, a puzzled and slightly disgusted look on his face. Even after its brief presence in the place for a mere day, Joker already knew the curves and contours in the picture well - after all, with the help of a cheap disposable camera, he _had_ taken it himself.

Jonathan, sitting on the living room couch in a nightdress of lacy deep blue lingerie, with hands clasped in lap and knees together, taken at a three-quarters angle to partly show the swell of his pregnancy. He was blushing, head ducked slightly as a tired but relentlessly loving smile was reflected in his bright blue irises - Crane's eyes always showed up fantastically well in photographs, especially with the lighting the clown had used. Joker was rather proud of how the image had turned out - maybe he had been a professional photographer at some point in that unreachable part of his past that he could never remember - in any case, Jonathan looked almost as strikingly beautiful there as he did in real life, and capturing that beauty in the best way possible was all that mattered when the clown had taken the picture.

Lily glanced from the photo to Joker and back again, smirking - and the clown knew that he had determined the identity of the child's father.

Lily chuckled suddenly. "Well, all I can say is that it had better get it's `mother's`" - he made air quotes with his free hand around the word - "good looks, or else that's gonna be one ugly -"

BAM!

Blood spurted as a large hole appeared in the middle of Lily's face, the picture frame clattering to the countertop as he jerked backward and then fell to the floor, dead before his head hit the ground.

Roberts and the two guards that were left trembled as the goggled open-mouthed at the handgun Joker had produced from within his coat in the blink of an eye, the end of the barrel still smoking.

"Anybody _else_ have a, a _problem_ with my private life?" The clown's eyes flickered to each member of the remaining trio in turn, and, just to make sure they got the message, shot a hole into the wall right between the two thugs' heads - both they and Roberts flinched - before casually returning the murder weapon to its place.

Well, he couldn't have just let the guy stand there and insult him and his future offspring, not to mention make a mockery of Jonathan like that - the latter was what had _really_ pissed him off. Criticizing his choice of slut, how _dare_ he. . .

"Joker?" A soft voice from out of his sight line. "What's going on? I heard you laughing. . .woke me up. . .and then I heard gunshots. . ."

The clown turned halfway 'round in his chair to face his gentle-spoken partner, whom he hadn't seen yet that day because he had been reminding the people of the city who the King of Chaos really was - and his breath caught in his throat.

Jonathan was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning up against the doorframe a bit for support, a white flannel nightgown with tiny blue tulips printed all over it embracing his skinny-yet-oh-so-irresistibly-sexy frame. Large pink curlers were rolled tightly from the middle of the top of his head and on down back, his brown ringlets puffed up slightly in front - it looked as though Crane had been in the middle of removing the curlers when he had ventured out into the kitchen to investigate.

But it was the sight of Jonathan's thin arms crossed protectively over six months' worth of fetal development that caused Joker to harden almost faster than he would have had he watched a normal, flat-stomached Crane hump a stripper pole in nothing but a thong (and the clown would know, because he _had_ watched his bitch do something to that effect on a previous occasion). The lust was especially strong - and emotionally painful - because ever since he had learned he was with child, Jonathan had refused to consent to sex - Crane apparently feared he would lose the baby, even if the clown were gentle with him. Jonathan wouldn't even suck him off - which really wasn't anything new, as that was one of the few lines Crane had drawn when Joker had claimed him as his personal whore (those damn blue eyes, they ruined everything - but if Joker were to cut them out then Jonathan wouldn't be as drop-dead gorgeous as himself anymore) - and so these past few months the clown had resorted to masturbation to curb his primal desires (he respected and loved Jonathan far too much now to either rape or "cheat on" him). Joker just couldn't understand why Jonathan refused oral sex, especially as he did now; he knew that Crane didn't like the various tastes associated with that particular form of "the act" - that had been obvious when Joker had forced him to it that first time without being said - but what had really been puzzling was when Jonathan had mentioned his stomach in his explanation of refusal. He had confessed that, seeing as he had no uterus - at least, he _thought_ he didn't have a uterus - he hadn't a clue as to where exactly in his body the baby was, except of course that it was in his abdominal region, and so he thought consuming Joker's semen might somehow harm the child. The clown had then mockingly accused Jonathan of attempting to digest the fetus, which at first made Crane giggle - the desired effect - but then the doctor had burst into tears, cursing everything under the Sun: hormones, having to wear nightgowns all the time because Joker wouldn't steal any maternity clothes for him, having to stay cooped up in his apartment and "attend" work at Arkham through phone calls because he definitely couldn't be seen like this, Joker himself. . .and the psychotic clown had taken Jonathan in his arms, rocking him back and forth and crooning soft words of love to him until he quieted.

"Everything's fine, Jonathan." Joker had to get his whore back in bed before he noticed the. . ._mess_. "Go back to sleep. I'll come join you in a minute."

The three men watching the couple shuddered in disgust - though thankfully for them the clown didn't notice.

"All right." Jonathan yawned and turned to go - but then shifted back to face his lover. "There's an old adage that infants are supposed to `turn out` more intelligent if you play them classical music, you know." He cradled his belly in his arms and rocked himself from side-to-side gently, smiling down with strong affection at his protruding abdomen, and said dreamily, "I played Mozart for her today, thinking that I should give the theory a head start, possibly increase her intellectual abilities. `Symphony No. 40 in G-Minor Minuetto: Allegretto.` It's a rather lively piece; I think she rather liked it."

Joker cocked a dark brow. The uttering of the full title of the composition didn't surprise him - Jonathan rattled shit like that off all the time without a second's hesitation - so much as the assumption of the child's gender. "Since when did you decide it was a girl?" He hadn't cracked and left the apartment to get an ultrasound - or hadhe?

No - Jonathan would feel much to vulnerable nowadays to go anywhere without the clown, even if he could safely without fear of scorn and ridicule.

"She certainly kicks hard enough." Still rocking and smiling, no real signs of anger in him, merely teasing happiness.

Joker sighed and rolled his eyes. "Just go back to bed."

Jonathan's blissful smile widened as he ambled back down the hall and called over his shoulder, "Good night, sweetie!"

"'Night," the clown muttered - then turned back around to face his shell-shocked hired help.

"Why the _fuck_ are you still standing around here like there's nothing to do, gawking at _My bitch?!_ Get the hell out of here before I cut your dicks off and make you eat them."

THE END

* * *

_Jonny was not on drugs, just merely tired and very pregnant._


End file.
